


The Press of Your Lips Against Mine (Everything Is Going To Be Just Fine)

by jenniferxprentiss



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: 5+1 Fic, F/M, First Kisses, Fluff, angsty kinda, post-Doyle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenniferxprentiss/pseuds/jenniferxprentiss
Summary: The first time Hotch lets himself kiss JJ, they’re in a small hospital room while Emily is being operated on. They’re both in her room, a small thing with only enough room to fit a hospital bed and a couple of chairs, JJ pacing the floor and wringing her hands. She was distraught, didn’t want to show her worry in front of the rest of the team that was waiting in the family room. Hotch stood, caught JJ by the arm and pulled her into him, let his lips press insistently into hers, surprised when she melted into his touch.———5 times Hotch kisses JJ because of Emily, and the one time Emily pushes JJ to kiss Hotch first.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Jennifer "JJ" Jareau
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	1. in a hospital room

**Author's Note:**

> hi! back at it again with another fluffy 5+1 fic before I even finish the first one? very in character for me lol 
> 
> idk, gimme reviews its like crack to me

It felt like they had been waiting for days, time stretching and lines blurring in the sterile, white hospital room. In all reality, Emily had only been in surgery for around an hour, but JJ couldn’t seem to quell her nerves. 

She couldn’t get the image of Emily’s lifeless form out of her head — the way her head lolled to the side when the gurney jolted, doctors running down the hallway and pushing her away, off to surgery. 

With a shaky exhale, JJ stood again, unable to handle sitting down any longer. She was full of nervous energy, palms sweaty and body shaking, face soaked with tears that just kept silently falling. She tried to offer Hotch a small smile, something of solidarity and bravery, but her watery smile broke, eyes knitting together as her face crumpled again. 

Damn it, she didn’t want to cry anymore. 

The room was barely big enough for her to move around in, barely enough space to turn circles and pace, just enough room for the missing bed and two small chairs. She sighed, scrubbing her hand over her face as she studied Hotch. 

He was perched on the edge of the hard plastic chair, elbows resting on his knees with a broken expression on his face. She knew he was taking this just as hard as she was — both of them overcome with so much guilt and devastation at the prospect of losing Emily, of having let Doyle win one last time. 

“Jayje…” Hotch cleared his throat, sitting up a little taller and letting his hand graze the side of JJ’s arm. “Do you need some air?” 

“No!” 

Her response came quick, voice firm yet shaky, loud and a bit of something she didn’t entirely recognize in herself. JJ didn’t want to see the rest of the team — didn’t know if she had the strength to handle their questions and worry. She could barely keep herself together and functional, let alone the rest of the team. 

“I’m sorry.” She stopped in front of Hotch, shooting him a watery half smile, unsure of what to say or do. “I don’t think I can. Face them, I mean. Not yet.” 

Hotch nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. He knew it wasn’t entirely that, it was that JJ didn’t want to miss the call from witsec — didn’t want to be left out of the loop. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, couldn’t quite figure out the right words because truthfully, he didn’t know that everything would be okay. 

He sat back in his chair, fingers tightly gripping his cell phone as they waited, JJ still pacing around the room and fiddling with her necklace. It was a locket, something small and silver and heart shaped that Hotch had recognized when she started playing with it, noticed the way it brought fresh waves of tears trickling down her face. 

“This isn’t fair.” JJ’s voice was small, broken. There was a fear in her eyes and a shake in her voice, trying so desperately to stop crying, just for a minute. 

Hotch shook his head, at a loss for words. It wasn’t fair that Doyle had done this, that Emily was fighting for her life on an operating table, that she was going to have to leave the only family she knew because of him, and the thought made his heart break and another wave of tears spring to his eyes. 

“We’re going to have to tell the team.” His voice was solemn, face still as stoic as ever. 

There was so much hanging in that statement, they both knew it. They were going to have to tell the team that Emily died, no matter the outcome, that Doyle had taken one of their own. They couldn’t celebrate if everything turned out okay — couldn’t rejoice and embrace and thank god that they had gotten to her on time. 

“I don’t want to think about that.” 

“I know.” 

JJ continued to pace around the room, chewing absently on her fingernails. They were bitten down as far down into the nail bed as she could get, drawing blood with every nervous jerk of her hands. It was the only thing she could do to ground herself, to ease some of the nervous energy that the tiny, sterile hospital room seemed to only amplify with its crisp white walls and emptiness. 

After what seemed like forever, there was a gentle knock on the door that echoed around the room, stopped JJ in her tracks and made Hotch sit up a little straighter in his seat. They stared at the doctor as he walked into the room, and JJ’s eyes immediately flickered down to the splatter of blood across the side of his scrubs. 

“You’re here for Agent Prentiss?” 

JJ found herself unable to move or think, eyes still laser focused on the splatter of blood and the gruff man’s voice. She was thankful when Hotch nodded, cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, eyes focused on the doctor with a small, polite half smile painted on his face. 

“She’s stable, in recovery now. She lost a lot of blood and she’ll have a long road of physical therapy ahead of her… but she’s okay. We’ll bring her down here once she wakes up.” 

Time felt like it was standing still, and JJ could barely recognize her own voice when she thanked the doctor. They were left in a tense, numb silence when the door clicked shut. The silence was truly deafening, JJ’s ears ringing as she felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over her. 

She staggered to the window, small and metal lined and barely big enough to see outside, but enough to ground her. Her fingers wrapped around the ledge, fingers shining with streaks of blood, her face crumpling as she tried so hard to stay composed. The relief and fear and guilt was too much, and she struggled to take a shuddering breath in, knowing that the sobs would follow. 

Hotch was behind her, strong hand on her bicep, a feeling of comfort and strength and understanding. He knew how hard this was going to be for them — how much they were going to have to go through, unable to tell anyone else. 

He pulled on her arm gently, pulled her towards him and brushed his thumb over the tears that continued to slip down her face — they had both been crying on and off since they found Emily. She let out a choked, strangled sob, one so full of relief and happiness, feeling her body melt into his, her hands grasping at his arms in an attempt to hold onto something real, something tangible. 

She didn’t care that her fingers were staining the crisp white linen of Hotch’s dress shirt, didn’t care that she was leaning into his touch in a way she would never let herself for fear of breaking professionality. This was different, and nothing would be the same between them — between them and the team, for that matter. 

“Jen…” His voice was watery, laced with unshed tears. “We’re going to be okay. Em is okay.” 

JJ let her cheek lean into his hand, her fingers digging into his arms through the material of his shirt. There was a vague red flag thrown up in the back of her mind, that she shouldn’t be leaning into his touch or looking at his lips like that, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Not now, not with everything going on. 

There was a tense silence for a moment, only the sounds of faint beeping from other rooms and JJ’s ragged, tear filled breathing between them. It was too silent, the room felt too suffocating, but they knew the moment they stepped out of there — stepped out of Emily’s hospital room — they would be planning a funeral for a friend they never lost, and Emily would be dead to the world. 

In a brief moment of courage, Hotch felt himself lean down, lips brushing across JJ’s forehead before his eyes caught her lips. His free hand came to the back of her head, resting atop the tangled hair he found there, and pulled her into him, his lips covering hers in a gentle kiss. 

She tasted of tears and the metallic tang of blood, her lips peeling and chapped, their lips fitting perfectly against each other’s. Hotch was surprised to feel JJ kissing back, fingers grasping at his biceps tightly. 

After what felt like forever, they finally pulled apart, blushing and smiling shyly at each other. Hotch let out a breathy laugh, hand coming up to smooth out his hair before brushing the rest of the tears off of JJ’s face. There was no sense of awkwardness between them, as Hotch grabbed his suit jacket off of the chair and put it back on, JJ gazing at him with a small smirk playing on her lips. 

It was better than tears, he reasoned to himself. 

“We should go tell them… tell the team. Send them home before she’s out of recovery.” 

His voice was firm, authoritative in a way that JJ appreciated in that moment. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to pull out the worst of the knots before grabbing a paper towel and wiping at her face, grimacing at the scratchy material. They were both stalling and she knew it — stalling because the moment they walked out of that room, things would never be the same. 

Emily Prentiss was dead. 

JJ felt a gentle hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the room and down the hallway, felt the sting of fresh tears in her eyes as they rounded the corner into the family waiting area. The rest of the team was in a similar state of disarray — wringing their hands and pacing and crying — and JJ felt her stomach knot up in dread at the news they were about to deliver. 

There was the gentle tickle of dancing fingers on the small of her back again, bringing a gentle smile to her lips. Hotch was there. He knew. They both knew. They were going to be okay — everything was going to be okay because they were okay, Emily was okay. The world was falling apart beneath them but there were few small points of solace she could find. 

Emily Prentiss was dead to the world, but not to them.


	2. in a church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time Hotch kisses JJ, they’re at Emily’s funeral, tears streaming down both of their faces. She nudged him towards an empty room, the weight of their secret had been almost too much for her to bear around the team. The heavy wooden door had barely shut before he bent, covering her lips with his, tasting salty tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> strayed a lil bit from the outline of this chapter but whatever, it’s still good!! hope u all enjoy!   
> xoxo

They had a closed casket funeral, claimed that Doyle did irreparable damage and that was what Emily would want — that she wouldn’t want everyone to remember her that way, marred with wounds. In all reality, the casket was empty, but the tears and grief were very much real. 

JJ wanted to scream when the men walked with the casket, brought it to its final resting place. She wanted to cry and scream and tell everyone it wasn’t real, but she couldn’t. Not even Will knew, shedding a few tears of his own when they watched as it was lowered into the ground. 

If the burial was bad, the celebration of life was worse. 

She couldn’t find anywhere to comfortably be but didn’t want to go home, having already sent Will back to the house to put Henry to bed. Everyone was bustling around in black, dabbing away tears and telling stories about Emily’s life, about all the things she achieved and accomplished. 

Even Elizabeth was there, of course she was — the only people who knew Emily was alive were JJ, Hotch, and the witsec team. It was for her safety, and she told them she didn’t want her mother knowing anyways. Still, it angered JJ to no end to see this woman mope and sulk around, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a crumpled piece of silk and putting on the show of her lifetime. 

She spotted Hotch across the room, a bottle of water in his hand and face downcast, half listening to some sobbed conversation between Reid and Morgan. Reid looked downright ruined, face puffy and tear stained, and JJ wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him that everything was okay — that Emily was okay and they didn’t fail her — felt herself crumple when she realized that she wouldn’t be able to do that for a long, long time. 

When their eyes met, Hotch’s lips quirked up in a small, knowing smile. He could tell that Elizabeth was wearing on JJ’s nerves from the way she had been glaring at the woman all evening, face wrinkling up in a scowl every time she passed JJ and called her Jennifer with disdain, moreso when Elizabeth made a comment about her child born out of wedlock. 

JJ motioned him over, feeling her eyes well up with tears again. She so badly wanted to say something to the team, their grieving friends, but didn’t trust herself to open her mouth, knowing that she would never stop talking if she did. She didn’t want to blow Emily’s cover — Emily, who was currently at a hotel near the airport they would fly out of the following day, blissfully unaware of how awful this was for everyone involved. 

How awful this was for JJ and Hotch specifically. 

He stood, made his way over to her with the water bottle he had been sipping on tucked under his arm. Their faces both crumpled, standing mere inches apart with so much hanging between them — so much they wanted to say but couldn’t. Not here. 

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit more private?” 

She nodded, still didn’t trust herself with words, breathed out a sigh of relief when his hand grazed the small of her back and pulled her along with him. There was a hallway off of the main room they were in, there had to be something a little more private there — somewhere they could discuss Emily without prying ears. 

It felt like the room was stretching as they walked, friends and family members of Emily shooting them apologetic glances. The worst was when they passed where Garcia was sitting with Reid and Morgan, barely able to make out her strangled sob over the murmur of voices around the room. 

JJ willed herself not to cry, free hand pinching the bridge of her nose as she took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. When she heard Hotch choke out a sob, shoulders shaking as he quickened their pace, she felt the tears start streaming down her face. 

Damn it. She was doing so well. 

“Jen. Jennifer. JJ.” 

His voice was cracking as he spoke, pulling her into the nearest room they could find and flicking the light switch. The fluorescent bulbs zapped to life, and Hotch kicked the door shut behind them. 

They were both sobbing now, JJ wringing her hands as Hotch fumbled with his tie, tearing it off and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. He hadn’t let himself cry with anyone else — they wouldn’t understand the gravity of the situation, the struggle he would face every day. 

“I’m going to miss her so much, Hotch.” 

“I know.” He let out a watery laugh, opening his arms and letting her fall into his embrace. “Trust me, I’m the only one who knows.” 

JJ melted into his grasp, hands grasping at his shirt, desperately seeking some sort of contact. This was all too real — too much — the pitiful looks of their teammates burned into her mind forever when she knew that in just a few hours they would be back with Emily, in the hotel room she was very much safe in, and they would fly her out to Paris the following morning. 

“We’ll have two weeks in Paris.”

“It’s not enough.” 

“No.” Hotch paused, looking down at JJ. The tears continued to leak down both of their faces — tear filled had been their look for the past few days. “It’s not enough, but we’ll make it count.” 

JJ nodded, burying her face in his stark white shirt, unable to bring herself to care that she was smearing her makeup all over the garment — that when they walked out of this room everyone would know she had been on him and crying her eyes out. Her body shook with every sob, every gasping breath in and shuddered exhale, only made worse by the way Aaron was quaking and sniffling, face hidden in her hair. 

After a moment, Hotch straightened up, clearing his throat and looking down at JJ, the way her eyes widened as she looked up at him. The tears were still leaking from both of their eyes, dripping down their faces in a way that had almost been expected given the past few days' events. 

He caught himself staring into her eyes for too long, almost getting lost in the shining blue — somehow impossibly more beautiful when welled up with tears. Without thinking, he brushed the back of his hand over her cheeks, pushing the tears away, noticing the way her eyes flickered down to his lips. 

It was like his body was on autopilot, the way he cupped her face with both hands and brought her up to his level, covering her lips with his. The kiss was soft and tender, no expectation of anything, just emotion he couldn’t convey with words — that he couldn’t find the right words for even if he tried. 

When she pulled back, dazed smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Hotch couldn’t help but smile back — couldn’t help but notice that their tears had finally dried after what had been hours, leaving behind only hiccuped breaths and sighs. For the first time in days, it felt like everything was going to be okay — like everything might fall into place the way it should. 

“Why don’t we leave?” JJ almost couldn’t recognize her voice, throaty and strained from hours of sobbing into a soaked tissue. “We can go now, spend the night with Em before we have to fly out tomorrow.” 

Hotch nodded, rolling his tie up and slipping it into his pocket and buttoning the collar of his shirt. He didn’t need to leave this room in such a state of disarray, didn’t need the team questioning his relationship with JJ given everything that was going on. 

“What did you tell Will?” 

“That I was going to be spending a few days dealing with Emily’s estate. Out of town. That he could call me if he needed me.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm the messy curls before they stepped out of the room. “What did you tell your sister?” 

“That I really needed a favor and had some things I had to take care of.” 

“Vague. I like it.” 

When Hotch opened the door, motioned for JJ to step out ahead of him, it felt like the weight of the world crashed down on their shoulders once more. It was such a relief that they both knew — that they could share this with each other — and JJ knew that it likely wouldn’t get any easier. Not any time soon. 

But somehow, with her heart racing and thumping in her ears, hurrying down the corridor of a stuffy old church with Hotch guiding her by the arm, guiding her out and towards Emily for just a little longer, she managed to let out a small giggle. One that Aaron matched, his hand tightening around her bicep as they stepped out into the crisp night air, laughing the entire way to his car, until tears welled up in their eyes a completely different reason.


	3. on a plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third time JJ finds herself being kissed by Hotch is on the way home from Paris, sitting shoulder to shoulder on a commercial aircraft, having opted out of taking the jet home. It was too empty, too quiet. She was dabbing the handkerchief she had borrowed from Aaron against her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. She gasped when Hotch pulled the fabric from her grasp, let his own hand cover her cheek, leaning down and kissing her tears away before pressing his lips to hers, bringing another fresh wave of tears for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chap reads very jemily/jotchniss and I’m not even one bit sorry. but I love this n I’m so proud of this 
> 
> Lemme know what u think!

Two weeks had passed them by faster than anyone had wanted it to, a blur of wine and laughter mixed with tears and memories they would have to cherish until the next time — none of the three of them knowing exactly when the next time would be. 

There had been late nights on the balcony of Emily’s new flat, bottles of empty wine and beer littering the floor as they laughed, cried, watched the city wake up as the sun came up. They only went to bed when they saw the new day, squeezing into the queen sized bed that was much too small for three adults, but they made it work. 

There were whispered promises of more — another visit, hopefully sooner rather than later — and tears, so many tears. 

They had left for the airport with gentle kisses to Emily’s forehead and cheeks, wiping the tears from her cheeks as they tried desperately to hold their own sobs in. JJ had promised, with her thumb pushing away Emily’s tears, that they would be in contact. 

Online scrabble, they had decided, and Hotch had to laugh at that. He thought of the many drunken scrabble nights they had, where the board almost always ended up discarded before the game was over — whether it was flipped in anger or just pushed off the table to make room for something else. 

“Aaron?” 

Hotch sat up straighter, pulled from his thoughts, groaning when his back protested the uncomfortable position he had been sitting in. He cursed their decision to take a commercial airline instead of a witsec or bureau appointed private plane. It was stuffy and uncomfortable, not enough leg room and next to no privacy. 

“Yeah?” 

“I miss her already.” 

JJ tried to control the way her voice shook, tried to stop her face from crumpling again. It had only been a couple of hours since they had left Emily’s flat — how could she do this for months, possibly years? 

Her hand was curled into a fist around the handkerchief she borrowed from Hotch, silky material dampened with tears. He idly wondered how she had any tears left, how her eyes weren’t completely dried out. 

“I do too. And she misses us too.” 

JJ let out a ragged breath, closing her eyes for a moment before dabbing at her face, collecting a fresh round of tears in the material. She suddenly wished they were alone, that they were anywhere but here, the uncertainty of the future too much to discuss in such a public place. 

“Everything is going to be different.” 

He knew that Emily’s office had been packed up while they were in Paris —her items boxed up by some intern grunt that had never met Emily or known the beautiful light of a person that she was — knew it would have been too painful for JJ or himself to do. They were already going to have a hard time with sorting the rest of Emily’s estate, dividing up the belongings she couldn’t bring to Paris with her. 

They couldn’t trash anything, could barely think about putting it all in some storage pod. 

“Her replacement is nice, she’ll get along well with the team.” 

“But she isn’t Emily.” There was a low whine to JJ’s tone, bottom lip jutting out. “I don’t like her because she’s not Emily.” 

“You haven’t even met Alex yet.” 

He had a point, but JJ would never tell him that. She was sure that the new agent would be perfectly nice, but it didn’t take away from the ache JJ would feel when they were back. 

Emily’s office wasn’t Emily’s office anymore, it was Alex’s office, and she would no longer be able to barge in there and complain when work seemed too overwhelming, unsure of what cases to prioritize, always afraid she would make the wrong choice. 

“I can give her a chance.” She sighed, running her hand through her hair before looking pointedly at Hotch. 

“I know it’s not going to be the same as having Emily around, but I’m not going anywhere.” 

JJ let her head drop to Hotch’s shoulder, damp handkerchief still wound around her fingers, trying to think of the right words to say. Her heart tugged at his words, the way his eyes were filled with so much sincerity that it lit a fire inside of her, calming the cold, nervous shake she had been plagued with since the incident. 

They had taken to calling it the incident — her, Emily, and Hotch — unable to give Doyle any power, any sort of leverage in the situation, ignored the fact they were all plagued with nightmares that were nothing but a gruesome replaying of actual events, so full of his face that they almost always woke up gasping for air. 

She opened her mouth, tried to say something but words couldn’t quite come out, too enamored with the floaty, giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Somehow, though she tried to be stoic and cold, there were two people that could always turn her into a blubbering, blushing idiot — Hotch and Emily. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’re just as good as Emily.”

“A high position for me to take, isn’t it?” 

They fell into a comfortable silence, JJ’s head resting on Hotch’s shoulder as she half watched the in-flight entertainment, some family friendly movie she couldn’t quite pay attention to. Her eyes were glazed over, unfocused, vaguely registering the characters moving across the screen. 

Hotch let out a throaty chuckle at something happening on the screen, his chest rumbling under JJ’s ear. She smiled, a small ghost of a smile creeping up on her face before a fleeting memory crossed her mind, face crumpling again. 

They had been on the couch in Emily’s flat, wine drunk and the room hazy with smoke, had just convinced Emily to stop chain smoking and join them on the couch for a movie. Emily’s hand held JJ’s tightly, resting on Hotch’s chest, cuddled up on either side of him, letting out periodic laughs at the French movie on the small, staticky television that only Emily seemed to be able to decipher. 

Her shoulders shook, tears flowing freely from her eyes at the memory. She choked back a sob, free hand gripping Hotch’s thigh for some sort of support — a feeble attempt to ground herself, to be present in the moment. They were in a plane, jammed shoulder to shoulder with her head resting in the crook between Hotch’s neck and chest, getting further and further from France by the second, closer to home. 

She didn’t quite know if it was considered home anymore — not without Emily. 

JJ felt the scrap of now soaked fabric tugged from her grasp, sliding through her fingers until she was left empty handed, fingers curling and dropping to her lap. She turned, picking her head up from where it was resting on Hotch’s chest and looked into his eyes, noticed the unshed tears that were threatening to spill over. 

His hand was on her cheek, cupping her face with so much delicacy and intimacy it almost scared her, almost made her turn away — if it was anyone else, she would have, but this was Hotch and she trusted him with her life. There was a fire in his eyes as the tears began to flow down his face, dripping down his cheeks as he pulled her to him. 

Their lips connected in a kiss that was so soft, so full of tenderness and love. JJ gasped into his mouth, turning in her seat and bringing her hand up to the back of his head, fingernails raking through the prickly hair at the nape of his neck. His stubble scratched against her face, made her gasp and hold him tighter, lips parting as she brought her other hand up to cup his cheek. 

A passenger behind them cleared their throat — an old man that had been glaring at them the entire time they had been seated, huffing every time JJ let out a particularly loud sob. They broke apart, blushing and gasping for air, JJ fanning her face and sitting forward, pretending to focus on the tiny television again. 

She glanced at Hotch out of the corner of her eye, had to stifle a laugh at the way his face had turned bright red, eyes darting around looking for some sort of out from the embarrassment. 

“Bathroom.” He managed to choke out, smoothing out his shirt and standing, offering her one last stroke of his thumb to her cheek before he walked down the aisle, face still cherry red. 

With a chuckle, JJ watched him pass through the small door into the bathroom before reclining in her seat, trying to focus on anything but the tingling feeling on her lips. She smiled, gentle and shy, absent of tears for the first time in what felt like ages, bringing her fingertips to her lips — knew she was smiling stupidly but couldn’t help it. Maybe Emily being gone wouldn’t be so bad. 

After all, they always had three way scrabble games.


End file.
